


Descent

by spectral099



Category: Blaseball (Video Game)
Genre: Core Mechanics (Blaseball Team), Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-15 06:08:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29929080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spectral099/pseuds/spectral099
Summary: Polkadot Patterson finds their way to the Core.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 8





	Descent

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Homecoming](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29911713) by [mossy_kit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mossy_kit/pseuds/mossy_kit). 



> sort of an unofficial sequel, also i know its really short, just wanted to try getting something about about the mechs.

Dot listened to the pull in their chest, following their feet, unsure about the new path they were taking but somehow sure of the destination. Somewhere new and unknown and home, all at once. Back and forth along corridors, down flights of rusty stairs, through tunnels with pipes hissing steam, down impossibly fast elevators, down ramps of concrete and wood and metal, always down. The tug in their heart grew stronger, thrumming and reverberating in time with the clanks of gears and thudding of machinery growing louder- and then the sound of people. Talking, laughing, singing in low, rhythmic chants. 

That beat in their chest felt a lot like anxiety, but it felt a little like excitement too. 

And then the noises of people, of their new team, was all around them as they stepped into a large mess hall, full of disjointed tables and couches and light and people. Most seemed to glance at them with mild curiosity, perhaps a hint of confusion, before turning back to their own conversations and projects and tinkering with things Dot couldn’t name or guess a purpose for. 

They floundered for a bit, unsure where to go now that the pull seemed to have settled deep in their chest- not completely gone, still feeling like a slight magnetic pull holding them down, grounding them, but not leading them anywhere. 

“You must be the new player.” A deep voice from behind nearly makes them jump, turning around and seeing a tall, broad shouldered person with grey hair, a smudge of what might be grease on one cheek, and an arm made of bronze. 

They take a quick breath and compose themself, putting on their best guess at a friendly smile. “Polkadot Patterson.” They offer, extending their hand. “I’m... excited to work with you.” 

“Sure, I can tell since you’re the first new face we’ve seen in decades.” He replies, not unfriendly, before taking the hand with a wry smile. “Ruffian Applesauce. Glad to have you on the team.”

They pause, looking around again. That would explain the confusion. It had been so long since the team had seen a new player, they simply weren’t sure what to do. Dot swallows. Hopefully it won’t be that long before they can see the rest of the Talkers again, the home they had made and lived in for 10 long seasons and offseasons. 

“C’mon, I’ll introduce you to everyone and then we can figure out where your workshop will be, what type of mechanic you are.” Ruffian nods, already studying Dot like they’re trying to figure out exactly what makes them tick, an examination that's just slightly uncomfortable.

“My… workshop?” They hesitate a moment, unsure, before nodding and following him. They’ve never had a workshop before- but it doesn’t sound so bad. 

It was a somewhat familiar process for Dot by now, the whirlwind of introductions, trying to get a feel for the culture of their new team. They were determined to keep up, to memorize names and faces, wanting things to be different this time- to be part of the team, not an isolated pitcher alone on the mound, waiting for others to reach out to them. 

The mechanics were a strange bunch to be sure, all seemingly pulled in different directions. Varying levels of dirt and grease on their clothes, some pristine, holograms of hard light wielding high-tech tablets and analyzing stats; others in patched overalls, wielding overly large wrenches and gesturing excitedly. Many with forms and outlines that weren’t quite human, mechanical add-ons and replacements and adaptations- though Dot wasn’t sure if they were less than or more than. Each having their own quirks and expertise, but somehow meshing together as a team, relying on each other like a well-oiled machine. Dot supposes they’d have to, after spending so long with the same players. 

There might be some friction at first, confusion about where they fit in, a gap left behind that they don’t perfectly fill. But the mechs didn’t seem annoyed at the prospect- only excited. The chance to fix something new, to rework their team into something better than it was before. Some were eager to start playing, to see how Dot pitched up close, to find ways they could all improve together. But for now, they started with building a connection first, asking all about the other teams they had been on, talking about what it was like being Up- and being Down.


End file.
